


blue. pink. white. pink. blue

by DoeEyedButterFly



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:13:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28137501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoeEyedButterFly/pseuds/DoeEyedButterFly
Summary: Everyone noticed you, everywhere, all the time. Everyone.Just not her.Everyone liked you, adored you, wanted to be like you.Just not her.Everyone believed they knew your secret, that they saw through you.Just not her.Revealing yourself might have meant losing everyone, but you wouldn't have cared, you would have given up everyone. Everyone.Just not her.
Relationships: Rachel Amber/Chloe Price
Comments: 28
Kudos: 8





	1. school year 1 - September

**Author's Note:**

  * For [emcee857](https://archiveofourown.org/users/emcee857/gifts).



**Chloe**

I ditched PE. I hid behind the tool shed instead. Timothy Miller punched me in the stomach on Tuesday, in the school hall, just as the teacher was looking away. I didn't even know who the dude was. Then I found out that he was Stephanie Kowalski's boyfriend. He's an asshole, but so is she, so they must have earned each other.

I told mom this morning that I couldn't go to physical education or school for that matter. I told her that my stomach hurt. That's only half a lie, I swear.  
I couldn't tell Mom anything about Timothy because if I did that, she would've asked questions or blame me and maybe she'd call the school or went to Wells by herself and everyone would have known and everyone already hates me.  
All the girls give me funny looks, curious because I'm a freak and kind of scared, like I'm going to bite them or some shit. I did nothing man, nothing.  
  
Mom believed me when I told her I accidentally lit Marisa's eyebrows with the bunsen burner. She always says I'm not a bad person, but I can't explain to her that Laura asked me if I think Sabrina D. is pretty, and me, being the total idiot I am, just said yes and then Sabrina D. found out about it and asked me directly whether I would kiss her if I could and I... guess I had a stroke or somethig, because I heard my mouth say _to her face_ that she is the ugliest girl I have ever seen and that before I even consider kissing _her_ , I'd rather make out with Stephanie Kowalski. And then, the following Tuesday I had PE and met said Timothy, to be more precise his fist met my abdomen.  
I can't explain that to mom, I can't even explain that to myself. Come full circle.  
So I was screwed now and all the girls hate me anyway because I am weird and dangerous and all the boys hate me too because I am a freak and not hot, but I don't care obviously because I hate everyone here as well.  
I wonder if Max hates me, maybe I should start texting her again, just to see if ...

Anyway, I wasn't hiding in the locker room. I was just in there to chill, I didn't think anything about it and I didn't do anything in there. I just didn't want to go to class, but most of all I didn't want to change clothes with the other girls in there, because simply put, they don't want that. They give me looks saying that I give them looks- which I DON'T!  
So it was a win-win situation and I just sat there chilling my life, wondrering how many sleeping pills it would take to fall into a nice coma during Chemistry and then ... then the door opened and one more girl came in after all.  
She had headphones on and was singing and dancing her way into the room, it looked fun and cool at the same time. I jumped a little when the door opened but then I was just surprised that she didn't see me at all, she just walked right past me to her locker and sang and took off her pants while dancing.  
I called so she would notice me, I waved my arms like an idiot but it wasn't until she pulled her shirt over her head and was completely in her underwear and her headphones slipped down that she finally saw me and let out a little scream and then she used the door of her locker as a shield and hid behind it, not fully, just a little.  
It was kinda funny, because I noticed the tiny hearts on her sports bra and also her pretty mouth in that moment. It was kind of nice. Almost like that of Sabrina D.  
  
"Hey" she said to me. "Are you peeping in here or what?"  
"What, no!"  
She laughed and said, "Too bad." Then she put on her sportswear, adjusted here and there and then slammed the locker door shut.  
"Rachel Amber, I'm new here, who are you?"  
"Chloe"  
"Do you have a last name?"  
"Price"  
She looked at me like I'd just introduce myself as Spongebob Squarepants.  
"Is that your real name?"  
"Yeah"  
"Sounds like the lead char on a cop television show. A case for Chloe Price. Tune in on 'True crime Tuesday'."

I didn't know, if she's was making fun of me, probably. So did it too, because why not.  
"Or a stripper."  
"Cool .. although I just totally took over your part then."  
Me was grinning and she winked at me. I noticed her very long eyelashes, funny, I've never noticed that on anyone.

"I have to get in there. See you around Chloe." She grabed her bag and walked to the door towards the gym. I didn't actually think we'd see each other because I didn't really plan on going to school after that day, sometimes Mom leaves the house early enough for me to hide and then sneak out later. I of course didn't tell that girl though. I just went with "Yeah ... and thanks for the free show."  
She stared at me, then burst out into laughter, she laughed and laughed and laughed and as she walked out the door, she adjusted her gym pants one more time and tied a blue flannel shirt around her waist.   
She looked graceful walking away, like a ballerina, I never noticed the way someone walks either. Funny.  
I think she might even be a little prettier than Sabrina D.


	2. school year 1 - April

**Chloe  
  
  
**

Spring break, who gives a fuck? Mom apparantly. She was crazy, thinking I should go out more and talk to peers. I go out Mom, actually I love staying away from home, if boytoy David is there... I just don't _talk_ much. Mom thought she was being sooo slick, even drove me here to this stupid party of some girl I didn't even know, I bet she just pity invited me because my Mom and her Mom know each other from the diner, man I hate it when Mom talks to other people about how messed up I am, they know pretty well by themselves. Mom forcing me to "socially engage" wanted to make sure I had nowhere else to go and she wanted me to "behave" and had actually laid my clothes out for tonight, she LAID my clothes out!!!! Like you do with a fucking five year old baby! She came into my room because she thought I was still asleep and wanted to put freshly washed "proper" laundry on my bed but of course I was still awake because I couldn't sleep last night, (after a long time I had decided to watch the Sk8er Boi music video again) and ... I don't know, but it kind of got me hot. I wish I were one badass like Avril myself. It's probably just me liking her style so much, I dug that.  
It's good that I was under the covers tho, but Mom must have seen some specific movements there, because she friggin' dropped the basket and ran out. Needless to say, we didn't speak a word at breakfast. Not that that made me sad, breakfast only took five minutes anyway. I was already hungry but David was there again and these two little blue pills were lying next to his plate, I was just able to suppress gagging.  
He's been sleeping with my Mom for over a year, it's so disgusting itself but him taking his little helpers with food in our house, in front of me, I mean, I know what these pills are for... aaaand I am choking again, enough of that. Guess Mom picked the wrong dude to get her freak on, as if there weren't enough guys out there.  
Just looking at that horrible mustache I can understand that some girls like other girls better. No hate, just saying they are so pretty, finer, softer, their features are nice to draw and they smell so good. Whatever.  
  
This party could only be a disaster.  
  
I cautiously crept out of the living room just as they started playing spin the bottle.  
Someone just left a sixer beer in the kitchen and I totally took advantage of it. One bottle was empty immediately, the second one with a little more time.  
I heard giggles from the living room, someone had just been kissed.  
I opened the third bottle of beer when I felt a hand on my shoulder.  
Sabrina D. smiled at me.  
"Caseyyy"  
"C-Chloe"  
"Oh yeah" she giggled. "Sorry. I'm just messing with you."  
"That's kind."  
"Why aren't you playing?"  
"Playing what?"  
She pointed at the living room.  
"Scared to get kissed tonight?" She duck-faced at me with her eyes closed. Great.  
Oof, her breath was toxic. She was super close, I could feel her boobs push against, well... whatever it is I have.  
"No, you were spinning a strawberry tequila bottle, that's not my kind of thing, sorry."  
Sabrina D. put her hands on my waist and leaned in. She smelled like she emptied the spinning bottle by herself. "What is your kind of thing Kylie?"  
"It's Chloe."  
She kissed me.  
It was wet. And bitter. And sour somehow.  
There was something weird in my mouth, not her tongue, that too but something else. She pushed it in deeper and deeper until I choked.  
She pulled her head back and grinned at me. I stuck my fingers into my mouth and pulled out ... a piece of pickle. Great.

  
  
  
Beer number four and I were in hiding together later that evening and just about to become best friends, me this time smoochig nothing but the bottle top, right there in the darkness, when suddenly I was blinded by the lights. Some dude had walked into the closet and closed the door behind him. He pulled a string, good idea, guess only I was stupid enough to not find it.  
 _Light in the closet_ \- it could have been a song.  
"What the fuck?!"  
"Occupied"  
"What are you doing in the closet?"  
"I'm talking to God"  
"'bout what?"  
"Why he killed my Dad."  
"What does He have to say about that?"  
"... breaking up on me, weak connection I suppose."  
"Shit."  
"..."  
"I'm Eric by the way."  
"I'm drunk by the way."  
"Cool name. I'm looking for paper plates, I was asked to get them, found you instead, so..." He looked me up and down, this night just kept getting better and better... Five seconds until he'd ask, five, four, three, two...  
"How about you hang up and have a heavenly experience with me, since we'e already here?" Wow, that was even faster than expected. Haha, a what-she-said-last-night-joke.  
I shrugged. Because hoestly, I didn't give a fuck, except that I kinda did.  
"Can I finish my beer first?"

He didn't really know what he was doing and the whole thing was over after about two minutes, left me with a small headache since he banged me against the shelves a couple times, as a result the paper plates fell down, on top of my head. "There you go" I slurred at him and that's exactly what he did in that moment.  
  


I don't know what it was, maybe seasickness from the bit of jerking me around, but instead of pulling down my shirt and pulling up my pants, I decided to throw up at him. Only four beers and a little bit of motion in the ocean and I projectile vomited all over his shoulder, I swear by my allmighty glowy bear the puke jet only hit him a tiny bit, but his reaction was to yell around and of course in no time twenty people were right in front of us all staring, gasping, giggling and pointing. I could see Sabrina D. turning to a girl I had never seen before, saying "See, I told you she likes boys."  
Eric stormed out of the closet with his pants around his ankles and I realized that I probably missed the mark to elope as well. While quickly dressing up, I heard someone make a comment about me being ugly and looking like a stick figure with a bobble head on it and some more giggling and then someone entered the closet and picked up the paper plates from the floor. I ... forgot her name.  
She handed them to someone else and then shooed everyone away, back into the living room, closing the door on me, finally.  
  
A few minutes later, when I was confident enough to get out and about to sneak out the front door, never to look back and text Mom my ass would be coming home by bus, if I'd magically find change on the street, the paper plates girl came up to me and asked me if I was okay.  
"Yep" I said.  
"So not a detective after all. Stripper it is."  
I remembered her name. Rachel Amber.  
Her perfect lips smiled at me.  
How could I have forgotten this girl?


	3. school year 2 - October

  
**Rachel**

I did send her a friend request, yes. But that was over nine months ago, nine (!!!) months.  
At one point I was convinced she just really didn't like me, but I couldn't figure out why. Then it dawned on me, that she just really hated everyone.  
I searched the web, but couldn't really find anything. Seemed like she was keeping everything on the down low. All info on her profile was invisible to me. Why wouldn't she just answer my freaking friend request? At least click "deny". But no, I obviously wouldn't want her to do that.  
Just one pic of her, a snapped photo, bad lighting, no smile, I looked closely, a picture taken from a picture, with an old phone camera the way it looked. It really didn't do her justice, she might have taken that herself and then posted it because she really didn't care. At all. No comments on it, no relationship stat, just all set on private.  
  
Eliot H. in my recommended, _people I might know_... sure I know him, we attend the same school, I thought and sipped my slightly cold coffee. I stretched, having sat on my butt for far too long. I mean... it couldn't hurt... so I checked his profile. There wasn't much to see, but... a picture of him and _her_ sidehugging. A stage in the background, a concert? What does that shirt say? Who is the band/artist? I couldn't tell... the quality was bad. Can no one take good pictures ffs? I was trying to be a spy on a secret mission here! Far more interesting than the surroundings, he posted the picture months ago and she liked it, but didn't comment on it.  
I shouldn't. But I wanted to know. But why? It didn't matter. Did it? No. Yes. No. Why? I... well, okay, just peeking. I checked his relationship stat. _"It's complicated"._ Hmmm.  
This girl... mysterious, yet hella fascinating.  
  
  
Got a message. Tyler.   
"Louis wants to go to Fall Feast with you. He's gonna text and ask you later today. Are you gonna go?"  
Thanks for the spoiler bitch. Gotta ask back nicely though.  
My Reply: "Hey T. Are you telling me because you like him and want me to refuse?"  
No answer from her at first, then a "maybe". *Sigh*  
  
Looking at Chloe Price social media. Why again was I doing this?  
Would Eliot ask her to Fall Feast? More importantly would she say yes? I didn't see her at any school event so far, but this could be the one. We could talk, maybe she'd dance with me or have a drink behind the school building. Maybe I should ask her, if- NO! God no! What was I thinking? No I would not. I would never. Because simply no. Even though I wanted to.  
She would say no anyways, she hated everything and everyone anyways.  
  
  
  
I called Louis. He sounded happy to hear from me. I told him I knew about his plans to ask me out and that I would suggest he'd go with Taylor, because I would join later with a group of friends but I would make sure to come over and talk to them both and that we'd dance together at the party.  
  
Fifteen minutes later, I got another text from Taylor.  
Thanking me. Kissy emoji. So he had asked her. Awesome.  
My Reply: XO  
  
Mom called from downstares, asking me, if I was done with my homework yet.  
"Yes", I lied, yelling back downstairs. I hadn't even started.  
I closed my laptop and thought about Chloe Price and her beautiful blue piercing eyes. No Rachel. _"It's complicated."_

**Chloe**

I always preferred it, when Eliot fell asleep. Then and only then he didn't actually try to impress me with his trading cards or ask me about seven hundred times if I liked what he did with his tongue in my ear (whattheeverlovingfuck!!!!), it drove me up the wall the way he touched my hair or wanted to cuddle for half an hour, when all I wanted was to play a video game or put my clothes back on for that matter and just fucking leave the house. He twice invited me over for a family game night, but like... eh. I didn't want to hang with him and his family, after school I was mostly busy finding reasons not to sleep for the rest of the day, but all of this bullshit combined, was still not as bad as him addressing me with 'porcupine'. In bed, in my backyard at home, the few times he came to see me, but he also did it at school recently. Another reason not to go there anymore. I wanted to kill him right away, I told him "I reply to 'Chloe' or 'hey asshole' not any animal names or some 'honey baby sweetcakes' shit. Got it?"   
He looked at me with his doggy face expression and asked me, if I wanted a hug. I didn't. He hugged me anyway and went straight in for a kiss, I pulled my head back as far as possible and then I saw Marisa and her entire entourage of bitches coming around the corner, giggling, as always and finger pointing, also as always, which resulted in me very quickly changing my mind.  
When Eliot was done licking my face, from the corner of my eye, I could just see Rachel standing at the end of the hall.  
She seemed to be watching us but I guess she wasn't and I was probably just tripping.   
When our eyes met briefly, she turned around right away and went into the next classroom. I looked at the door she just went through. So she had Chemistry now, along with Eliot.


	4. school year 2 - June

**Chloe**

"Okay, so when is your audition thingy again?"  
"My 'audition thingy' won't be until tomorrow Chloe. Today I just have to go to the doctor, after that we can chill."  
"To the doctor? Again?"  
Ever since that Damon fucker had tried to make minced meat out of Rachel, she went to see her doc all the time. Sometimes she went with her Mom, sometimes she went with her Dad, sometimes she brought back a bottle of pills, sometimes she brought back a huge frown.  
"I thought the arm was okay."  
"Don't worry, it's just a check-up and we want to discuss the scarring. No damage, but with the right care, no lasting effects of the injury will be visible."  
"Okay."  
I admit I was a little concerned when Rachel couldn't stop raving about cosmetic surgery lately, but now she might not need it after all. We talked about the whole thing not being my fault for forever, or well, these couple last weeks since it happened, but the guilt is still lingering inside me. I just want Rachel to be okay, no, I want her to be great and happy, way more than I want anything for myself.

  
"We're going to talk about my diet and overall health and all that kinda stuff again, you know."  
"Mhmm ..." I said, only half listening. It was the hottest day of the year so far and Willus Summers and his grandparents who had lived just around the corner, down my street, had sold their house and moved away already. I thought, free pool time, hell yeah, instead I would have to wait now and if it went really stupid, and it always kind of did, then Rachel would come back and be in a bad mood. No splish splash. No Rachel in a bikini.  
"So...?"  
Shit, I really wasn't listening. Rachel looked at me, she knew.  
"I just asked you, if we're going to meet later, you know, after my doctor's appointment."  
"Oh ... am I not going to take you there?"  
"Ah no, you don't have to. Dad drives me, we can meet later at the junkyard."  
"Junkyard? Rachel, I'm sweating like a pig, it's super hot. I thought we could ..."  
"We could ...?"  
"Go swimming?"  
  
Rachel didn't answer.  
  
"... or not"  
"I- don't have a swimsuit."  
"You don't have a swimsuit? _You_? Fashion queen."  
"None for the current season and I don't have the time to go shopping today.  
"Okay, okay, it was just an idea, a shitty idea clearly."  
"It was a great idea. We'll do it. Later ... someday. Not today."  
"Okay."  
We turned the corner and arrived in Rachel's street, I could already see her house, but I didn't want to meet her parents just yet and thought about dropping her off right here.  
Rachel seemed to have guessed my thoughts and even before I had stopped completely, she already loosened her seatbelt.  
  
I stopped in the middle of the road, just for a sec, it was early morning after all, and by 'early morning' I mean about 10:30. The rich people in Rachel's neighborhood like to stay inside during the heat anyway.  
  
I turned to her in my seat. "Text me when you're done?"  
"Yes, I'll better text to you as soon as I get to the doctor, so that you're back on time and not three hours after it's over."  
"Haha" I made a face at Rachel and tried to tickle her, but she was quick to react and pushed my hands away.  
"Too slow bitch", she commented and got out her phone, to check the time. "Okay, I should go now."  
"Okay."  
"Okay."  
I turned to her in the seat and aimed for her mouth, but then, just as I wanted to kiss her, I saw this guy running straight towards us and wave his arms like a maniac.  
"Shit," I said.  
"You can't park here, not here!!!!"  
"Fuck, yes dude I know, okay, okay, I just wanted to ..."  
"You have to drive away, you can't park here! I'll call the police, I'll call them right now." Ah man, this guy was clearly being a Karen.  
"Jesus Christ," Rachel leaned over me and poked her head out of my window. "Good morning Mister Fitzgerald, thank you very much for letting us know. My friend here is very well aware that she is not allowed to park here. She's leaving immediately, she just wanted to let me get out because I am in a hurry."  
"Ah, Rachel, didn't see that was you in there darling. Toto, say hi to little Miss Rachel."  
Great.  
Only now did I see that this old geezer had a tiny dog with him, I had never seen anything uglier. Oh wait, I think I did. Sabrina D. had one like that. But next to her, the dog looked halfway okay. But she was not a senior anymore, went off to college and I was not a Blackwell student anymore, neither was Marisa, so I didn't have to think about any of them anymore. My life had changed and with that, new assholes came along, being defeated by one beautiful awesome hot chick with lips like a porn star, a heart made of gold and a backbone, so she'd kick everyone's ass. Well, except Mister Fitzgerald's this particular morning. Obviously.   
  


This dude had a small plastic bag with him.  
His dog's shit.  
I wondered for a moment how it's even possible in this universe that people think I'm a freak when adults, grown men and women are walking around with bags of shit, telling others where to park and where not to go and what to wear and how to talk and yet, they themselves think all of that is okay, because they have a dog and walk it and watch it take shits. What if I did that? Without having a dog though?

  
I felt Rachel's hand on my arm for just a second, then she took her hand away.  
I looked over at her and she looked at me expectantly.  
Mister Fitzgerald also looked at me expectantly.  
  
"Uh ..." I said more to myself than anyone else.  
"Okay," Rachel said and opened her door. "Bye".  
Then she got out and was immediately on her way to her house.  
"Shit," I thought.  
Whatever she was waiting for, I missed the moment.  
  
I flipped her neighbor off and reversed out of the street.  
I could have kissed her on the cheek. That's... yeah, that's what girls do. That's what friends do. That's what a normal person would do. Without thinking about it. No one gives you shit for that.  
I _should_ have kissed her on the cheek. That's what she was waiting for.  
I am an idiot, making a situation akward when it didn't have to be. And now I couldn't even go back because Rachel wasn't there anymore. Probably thinking how big on an idiot I am.  
Fuck you Mister Fitzgerald and fuck your dog too, but do not fuck with me. I can do that by my damn self.

I drove to the junkyard, watered Rachel's tree, not like the one plant in my room, but with a clear conscience and water. Lots of water.  
After Rachel started a huge fire that caused quite the damage, she did her best to control the flames, quite literally, talking incessantly about karma and about enough destroyed ecosystems in the world and plastic bags in the ocean and animal experimentation and all that shit.  
  
Then she started planting trees, here in the junkyard, where nobody but me talked smack about it.  
The soil here seemed too rotten though, too full of toxides, for something to come into being, existing, blooming, but one tree was already developing.  
Maybe we could plant more elsewhere, at night when no one could see.  
  
I tried not to think about how I had screwed up the kiss earlier, yet another thing we wouldn't discuss anymore or come back to, like our plans of running away together, Rachel said she needed more time, especially now, after she'd been attacked and didn't know what or rather who was out there and since her birth mother came out of hiding and was looking for her, she better stay right where she is now, but I knew there was another reason, I was out of school and didn't have a job yet and things didn't pick up, so she would be the only one with a high school degree. I didn't give a fuck about that, but if Rachel wasn't ready, then I would fucking wait and keep trying. Arcadia being a hellhole or not. That broken nightlight on the truck bed I made for her to make the stars come to life, really just needed a battery change, but it seemed tired and out of hope of leaving this place, just like me.  
  
I thought about this morning, when I kissed Rachel. No problem then.  
She came through the window, at 2 am. Told me she couldn't sleep, but I knew that wasn't true.  
 _I_ was the one who couldn't sleep and I guess Rachel went into full panic mode, when I told her via text, that I was watching some Russian kids TV.  
She said that sounded like code for foreign porn but I put her on speaker and held the cell on my TV and there it was, a pirate finding a tresure chest, being very excited about it- in Russian.  
And thirty minutes later, she was there. Fully dressed, no make up though and her hair looked like she had been asleep, at least for some time before my text.  
She couldn't stop yawning and so she snuck down into the kitchen, which wasn't necessary because Mom was still sleeping soundly and David wasn't back yet. I thank the universe with all the power of my sextoys I totally uh... don't own, that the mustache only became security guard at the school I hated so much, AFTER I stopped going there.  
Sucked for Rachel though, because dude's watching her. He's watching her because he's certain she's doing something. He doesn't know what this 'something' is himself, but at the dinner table he once said that she always goes to the gym to change clothes later than all the other girls and that she and the _one_ Muslim girl in the whole school, spend a lot of time together, when everyone else has swimming lessons, they apparantly sit at a table outside and talk about all kinds of things. Mostly classical music and makeup... and flying planes into tall buildings I guess. Never forget.

When I asked Mom what she thinks about her grown-ass boyfriendmantoyguy sneaking after highschool girls and following them into changing rooms and if that wasn't creepy and distugsting she said nothing, not a word. She just gave me this 'don't-start-look' and pushed a baked potato onto my plate. I had enough and pissed off upstairs into my room. _Radical Rachel._ I texted her that and she liked it. I decided never to join dinner ever again. I tryed, it wasn't my fault. This time.  
  
The thought alone, what would Rachel do? She already burned the town down. You can only go so far from that. I know exactly how the swimming lessons went down, they were HELL, that's why I didn't go anymore after some time of being publicly body shamed and compared to others and being laughed at and people hiding my clothes and people pushing me into that water while still in my clothes and so on and so forth. I totally get Rachel, she shouldn't attend, no one should, although I would like to see her in a bikini... 'Someday'.  
  
When we were still awake two hours later and Rachel was done pushing and popping around in my face, and asked me if I wanted to see the huge thing and I said no and then yes, but that's disgusting, isn't it? She said "No, that's super hot". And then kissed me. Also no problem here.  
  
Not that I compare, like really, I never do. Ever, but like,... no pickles. No beer, no bitterness, no nothing. Her lips taste like tooth paste, sometimes like lemon juice or strawberries, like the gum we share or my breakfast cereal, when she comes over before school, sometimes like weed, that's my fault, don't tell her Mom. At least she's not smoking (yet) *cough*. That morning, when she came back with the soda, her lips tatsted like energy drink and grapes, little sweet and a little sour, perfect mix, just like she is, perfect. And then I saw the coaster. She actually put her soda _can_ on a _coaster_. I didn't know we have them in the house and of course I called her ass out on it. And she was like "No, I brought this one from home."  
Me being an idiot asking "Really?"  
And then Rachel laughed and laughed, until Mom woke up and gave me shit because we were loud and she had to get up early, man, guess Mom can be a Karen too, and I didn't have but one fuck to give about it.  
When she left for work, we still had an hour before David returned and we spent it in bed, with kids TV on, just making out.  
Maybe it's never a problem, unless anyone is around us.

I was putting her makeup away, she had ordered several pallets into the junkshack, just for fun, on her father's credit card, and they were actually delivered when we were both there and we laughed hysterically because we were actually in the middle of fucking nowhere and without a real address. But whatever Rachel Dawn Amber wants delivered, she'll get it here. My phone vibrated and it could only be her so I checked right away. She texted.  
Yep, she was in a bad mood, but not because of her appointment, but because of her Dad.  
She still wanted me to come over, so I stopped "cleaning" and got the truck, thinking about Professor Doctor Ethan James Amber and how much I always have to bite my tongue and clench my butt cheeks when talking to him or even seeing him, because Rachel loves her parents so much. 

  
  
Really it started with a conversation about shorts. One day after a concert (really the thing that kicked off, us- basically) the thing we have, the things we are, we hopped on a train going nowhere and we sat next to each other and she looked over and told me how, if she had beautiful long legs like me (whatthefuuuuuuuck???) she'd wear nothing but shorts every day. When I laughed at her and asked back, why she didn't just go for it, she said, her parents advised her not to wear clothes too revealing or too "inviting" or something that could potentially get her in trouble. I don't think, Rachel would get herself in a situation where twenty plus people see her semi naked with some random dude on top of her, in a closet, but if so, she better wear the right clothes.  
  
She went on about how her parents were a little more on the conservative side, strict, but loving and caring, supportive. She said, they were the best parents she ever had. I will never forget, how sincere she sounded when she said that and how her eyes were glowing.  
When I asked her what the hell that meant, she actually opened up to me, telling me she got adopted by the Ambers at age five, after she had been in foster care for quite a while. I must have gulped like a fish, because she gave me this weird look and asked "too much info?" and when I shook my head and she went on telling me that she never met her biological father, since he had killed himself before she was born and and that her biological mother was struggling with addiction and had been in and out of rehab for as long as Rachel could remember, until that poor woman finally gave up and signed her parental rights away and the Ambers went from caretakers to her legal guardians and later official parents without Rachel having a clear memory of the woman who gave birth to her.  
Buying a mansion in Arcadia Bay was a strategic move to secure Rachel's well-being. Because apparantly it's a great place to raise kids. Gag.  
  
I was so shocked and in awe at the same time, because I felt understood, and yet, I wondered how put together this kid is, like Rachel being my age, and having gone through hell, a different hell than mine but in the same universe, it was a real headscratcher for me and I wished upon an invisible star and could have bitten myself in the ass a million times, that I didn't allow myself to reach out to her earlier. But there is no chance in hell, that there is some other girl like Rachel Amber, no matter, who else I would talk to or will meet once we're out of here. I wondered how come, she isn't more fucked up, but then turned out later, she is.  
  
I vividly remember the anger and confusion in Rachel's eyes after we saw her Dad, some rich, put together, mature, hedge fond manager, ruling his family with an iron fist, making out with some woman under this historic oak tree in a park we got to and how she confide in me, how afraid she was now to lose her family, the people who took her in and loved her unconditionally and may they lie and cheat and be flawed, they still allowed her to express herself in ways she would have never imagined and they were her support system and caretakers.  
I will never forget the absolute devistation and defeat I could see in Rachel's face, when only a day later we both were told by her parents, those same people, that the woman we saw there, was no one other than her birth mother, looking for her, trying to get her back and fight the legal adoption, that she was still a danger to society and to herself.  
It stuck with me, because I could feel Rachel's pain and fear when I looked at her, sitting next to her on that luxury couch.  
I saw the same expression in my face after my Dad had passed. Every single time I looked into the mirror. Lost and afraid. Too hurt to admit it.

Images of an angry Rachel pushing a dude twice her size away from me flashed in front of my eyes. Images of a furious Rachel grabbing a piece of wood, knocking the shit out of that very same dickhole.  
I don't wanna know, what Rachel would have done to her Dad, if that woman didn't magically disappear, the same way she turned up out of nowhere, she was gone just like that and we haven't really talked about her again, just like we haven't talked about a lot of things that happened since.

  
I had to and will always keep these things to myself. No matter how angry I get, how sad, mad, frustrated and bitter, I will never tell Rachel about my true feelings towards her parents. I dislike her Mom, by her Mom I mean the one who stole herself back into Rachel's life and who made out with a very married guy, her ex husband, while her daughter was watching (of course she didn't know about that part, which makes it worse in my book) but I also mean the woman who became Rachel's mom, Doctor Mary-Rose Amber, I think she is a coward, I don't blame her for wanting to be Rachel's Mom, but I blame her for lying for so long and contributing to the pain, staying with this son of bitch of a husband. And I hate Rachel's Dad. I don't want to. I could give zero fucks about the person he is- but I can't, because Rachel loves him and looks up to him and is crazy worried and confused because of things he did and does and choices he made, that shouldn't have been his to make in the first place.  
I will go to hell probably, because I can't contain my feelings and I can't control my thoughts, but I don'tbelieve in hell, so I might as well feel and think whatever the fuck I want to or don't want to.  
I can't change the twisted ways my brain works, I can't stop hating this guy, because he is filth and full of lies and shit and everytime I see him, everytime I have to talk to him, until we finally leave, I am confronted with the fact, that he is alive and well and lying with his actions and his words.  
My father, who was everything you could wish for in a man, in a person, a loyal and honest husband, true believer in a higher power, a loving and caring and devoted father, hard worker, older brother and role model, kind to every soul and good to the core, is dead. Ripped out of my life.  
Yes, yes I know, James fucking Amber didn't kill my Dad, but I wish he did, just to give me a reason to hate him even more.

  
Rachel is just as fucked up as I am. Another thing that makes her so perfect.  
I know how dark that is, I can hear Rachel whisper the answer to that.

**Rachel**

"Fuck this!" was my answer, when I stormed out of that room.  
But the only fucked person, yeah, it was me. I didn't want to call my Mom and wait for her to come get me, so I... waved down a truck.  
  
I had clearly seen it in town, so I was sure, I wouldn't get abducted. The guy was nice and let me choose the tunes on the ride, because he was so easy going I asked, if he ever got out of town and sure he did, so I wrote down my number and left it with him and asked him to give me a call, if he was ever headed to L.A. and that I'd be very interested.  
Not sure if that confused him, because after that, he didn't talk much and looked relieved, when I got out.  
He dropped me off at Two Whales, where he took a break himself and I went in and said hi to Joyce, to Trevor and Justin, to Frank and his dog Pompidou and I also saw Nathan with Samantha, but I didn't want to interrupt, because it looked like they were on a date and also, I didn't know at the time, if Nathan already got a nice little information call from Victoria. I waved Mrs. Lancaster who teaches History and Geography.  
I didn't want to stay, so I just got coffee to go and then left. On my way down the street, I saw a lady, I thought, she was trapped between a trash can and a box, but when I came closer I realized, she was just sitting there. On a dirty blanket, she looked sad. i had seen her before, but I didn't know where.  
I asked her, if she was okay and she nodded, but her eyes said no, they were full of tears and somehow, they made me cry.  
I didn't ask, if it was okay, but I sat with her and I gave her some money, but she didn't want it, so I gave her my coffee and then she told me how a month ago, she had a job at the hospital and that she had lost it, just like she lost her family. And that made me cry even more, because I knew suddenly, where I had seen her before.  
Bleeding and barely concious, she could have easily been one of the last people I saw alive, but I made it and here I was, in a position to offer her money and she, in a position where she couldn't really decide not to take it.  
  
She asked me why I was crying and I don't know why I would bother a stranger in that moment. But I told her.  
I told her about the audition and how I was sure I'd get it, the role was mine. I had practiced. So hard.  
And then I got ready, in the bathroom, I refreshed my makeup. That was it. Except that wasn't it.  
Victoria was there. She was there to refreshen her makeup. She was there for the same reason I was. She wanted the role. My role.  
She ignored me, until more girls entered the bathroom and then she kept staring at me and I asked what her deal was, she said "You know Rachel, no one would know, if you weren't trying so hard to look pretty."  
"Know what?" I asked her back. She was literally doing the same thing.  
"That you're a guy."  
The other girls started laughing, obviously it was the funniest joke. But I was the joke and I looked into that bathroom mirror, questioning everything. My entire existence.  
So I grabbed my bag, yelled "Fuck this" and then I was out of there.  
  
I felt a hand on my face. She wiped my tear away. I said thank you and then I left.  
  
I didn't want to lie to Mom about the audition, since she helped me practice and I'd feel like I would let her down.  
So I let her know, that I was spending the night at Chloe's but I didn't announce that I was coming, I just knocked on her window to be polite and give her time.  
Chloe was surprised, I saw her on her bed, drawing, she tried to hide it, but I took it from her.  
"Good looking guy. Who is he?"  
She blushed and tried to change the subject.  
"What are you doing here? What about your-"  
"Answer." I waved him in front of her face. He had very nice eyes... and good hair. Noticed that right away. He looked somehow familiar.  
Chloe grabbed the paper and threw it in the trash. She looked angry and something else... Embarrassement... was that it? "I'm sorry" I said and I meant it. I didn't want to make her uncomfortable.  
I tried it differently. "I think I know him."  
Chloe sighed audibly. "No. No you don't. He isn't real."  
"He's not?"  
I saw her shifting, putting weight on one leg, then the other. Looking at her wall, a spot that she tagged with "Think like a man".  
"That... that's you, isn't it? You drew yourself as a guy?"  
"Yeah."  
"And why?"  
Chloe didn't answer first, so I picked him out of the trash can and put him back into her hands.  
"I don't know. I just thought about it today. I... I don't know. Maybe, maybe things would be easier, if I actually were a dude. Like, tough, and super strong and people wouldn't mess with me and treat me like a weakling and I wouldn't feel the way I am being treated. Maybe David would respect me or at least leave me alone, maybe Mom wouldn't try so hard, to see herself in me or wait until I become more like her... and... and you know..." By now her voice is just a whisper.  
"Don't... don't you ever wish... you were?"  
"NO! Absolutely not." It was sharp, I didn't intend that. Chloe went completely silent. I'm so sorry, I didn't mean that.  
I tried again, calm, collected, reassuring. "I get it. It's like... drawing yourself as superman... or superwoman, right?" I flexed my biceps and she could actually see the scarring and smiled a little unsure smile.   
"Superwoman... yeah."  
"Is that what he is? He's you... but a more?"

  
"Maybe things would be a lot easier with you as well, if I was... this."  
That one hit me deep, but I tried not to let it show.  
"What things... with me?"  
Please don't say the one thing I am afraid of. Please, not the one thing...  
  
  
And in that moment, I would realize later, in that moment, I missed the opportuity to say it first.  
I should have told her right there and then- and I didn't. I knew what she was about to say and I chose not to confront myself with it.  
I told myself it was too soon. I made excuses for why it would be too soon later.  
I just accepted the fact that she was too scared to say it and I was too scared to hear it and gladly took the fact that as long as she didn't ask, I wouldn't have to respond to it.  
So instead, I just hugged her, I hugged her and kissed her and she did it back, her drawing of that beautiful boy that was everything she wanted to be, but also staying true to herself, got squished between us- but he was still there.

  
  
  
  
  



	5. school year 3 - November

**Chloe**

It was Jessica who inspired me to get my pussy pierced. I had slept with her twice before she blocked my number and refused to speak to me but hey, it looks hella dope. No regrets.  
"College girls" I had overheard someone. "They are much more open minded." Oh really? Not at the small town college Arcadia Bay.  
There was Delaney, who only wanted to fuck when her boyfriend wasn't there, to which I said "hell no".  
Tessa, I knew she didn't find me attractive, but she still wanted me to come along and travel to some island with her and her parents ... for reasons. Which of course I didn't.  
Then Lane, who just flat out asked me at lunchtime when I dug into the food I got with my fake student ID, if I would like to have a threesome with her and her fuck buddy later, which I briefly considered and then declined and then Leonora, who I thought was cool and also hot as fuck, and I had made out with her in the library until some other student poked her shyly and addressed her as Mrs. Cole and said that she really needed to speak to her about her essay, and I swear that was the moment it sunk into my brain, that this person I was making out with, was in fact a tutor. Boy, I know I'll have to go to jail for some shit someday, but not because of _I can't contain the horny_.  
  
I left them and fucked off back across campus, where I saw a pretty Asian girl sitting under a tree studying. I stopped and eyefucked her for a while.  
She returned my looks, so I just pulled down my tank top real quick and showed her the way to the city. Her mouth hung open, which I honestly took as a nice compliment, no more ugly stick figured Chloe with too big of a head, my ladies bring all the girls to the yard, hella yeah, but then she jumped up and ran, dafaq?!  
When I reached my truck, I saw her again in the distance, accompanied by campus security, heading my way. Awesomesauce.  
  


When I told Rachel about it the next day, she just shook her head and gave me a strange look.  
Not angry, more like feeling sorry for me. Somehow like... like some people look at a handicapped dog or a small child banging their head against the wall, over and over and over again.  
  
I told her about Jessica too, about how I apologized to her and gave the reason why she wouldn't talk to me, I thought Rachel would laugh. I accidentally called her 'Rachel' when we were fooling around. It just slipped out of my mouth, dunno why. Or I do, I think I know why actually.

But Rachel didn't laugh.  
She looked at me and turned very pale.  
Then she got up, said that she still had to study for a test the next day and left. She didn't look at me when she said it.  
I grabbed her hand, wanted to hold her, tell her to wait, ask her if she didn't want to spend the night at my place, and drive the step douche mad in the morning, but then I let go and I didn't say any of these things.  
  


Shortly before 1 in the morning she called me and then hung up. She then called again and hung up again.  
It rang for a while when I called her back until she answered.  
"Hey" she whispered. At first I thought it was because her parents were sleeping but no, that didn't make any sense. She was no longer in her parents' house, she would be in her dorm room right now.  
"Is everything okay?" I asked her and she was silent.  
And then she spoke very softly.  
"Chloe?" And by the way she said my name, I could tell she'd been crying. She'd been crying a lot.  
"What's wrong Rachel?" I slipped into my boots as fast as I could and grabbed my car keys, ready to go for a night drive right away if I had to.  
  
Silence.  
"Rachel?"

"Can- can you tell me,... Do you... uhm, enjoy being intimate with other girls? Like... with strangers... with people you don't really care about?"

I dropped my car keys. Really? That's what this call was about?  
  
"Well..., it doesn't suck."  
"Ah"  
"Is that ... all you wanna know?"  
"How does it feel like... with someone you barely know?"

I thought of the past months and weeks, year, thought of Eliot and the few other idiots whose names I almost didn't remember.  
I thought of the tutor, who had long legs and beautiful blonde hair, and Jessica, who was just as blonde and had the biggest tits I have ever seen, not as pretty as Rachel's, but, no one has tits like Rachel, they look photoshopped but aren't.  
I thought of Rachel's mouth and the warmth of her skin and her after-shower scent, when her shirt is getting a little wet, the smell of her hair and how the hairs on my arms stood up when she whispered in my ear.  
I thought of our first kiss on a clear night under a lamppost and I thought about the last time I kissed Rachel, like really _kissed_ Rachel. For the last time.  
Her big soft lips tasting like tobacco and orange juice that morning. Warm and soft did they hold my lips captive and told them stories, stories of dreams that would actually come true and trump over nightmares, sweet like honey, did they promise me a life taking place outside of Arcadia Bay. And I believed them. Every single word that was kiss-promised upon me.  
  
  
"I think," I said slowly into my phone, listening to my words as I spoke them, "it just feels very different, like good and fucking awesome, but like, even better, like... really real when you actually love with the person you're doing it with, but... what the hell do I know? I've never had sex with anyone I'm in love with."

It was dead silent on the other end. I checked the display. It was black. She'd hung up.

**Rachel  
  
  
  
** Nothing happened.

Chloe didn't ask me about it, but I answered the unasked question anyway. By text.

 _Nothing_ happened.

I only found out afterwards that she would be there too. Otherwise I would have gone with her, obviously.  
Actually, these types of parties are not her thing at all.  
She had sat on Justin Williams' lap all evening. Or maybe only when I was looking.  
While I was sandwiched between Nathan and Dana, pretending I was dancing, she stroked Justin's stubble and it looked so unnatural. Unnatural for Chloe. Or did it just look unnatural to me?

  
I could still feel Chloe's soft hands on my skin.  
Her questioning look that just wouldn't let go of me.  
My unspoken request between us. Time ... give me some time.  
  
  
  
  
  


"Why can't I touch you?"  
  


Her chewing gum stuck in my belly button. She had taken it out to kiss me beforehand. I could taste the minty waves of her lust on my tongue and with my eyes closed I got hold of her fingers, which wandered up under my shirt.  
She always took different routes, explored me like a pirate in search of treasure.  
  
  


"You're literally touching me right now."  
  
  


She always smelled a little of gasoline, of hair dye, of cheap laundry detergent, her clothes sometimes like basement, but her excitement smelled of women, not of girls, not of maybe, not of why, not of doubts, just of real pleasure and that made me shiver and want so much more.  
All I had to do was put my hands on the sensitive area on her neck, then when I kissed up and down her chest, I could hear her pleasure and if I pulled down her jeans or she did it herself, I could even taste her pleasure and then I loved her the most. My girl. My woman. Raw. Real.

"No, not really."  
"Chloe, your hands are under my bra. As always."  
"Rachel, let me do the things you just did to me."  
"It's okay, you don't have to."  
"But I want to"  
"Why?"  
"Why? Is that a joke?"  
"No. I ... I am a little tired actually."  
"Good, perfect. Just lie down and relax."  
"No."  
"No?"  
"Not right now."  
"I want to make you happy."  
"I'm already there, I like it when we're together, that makes me very happy."  
"Rachel, come on, you know what I mean by that."  
"Chloe please don't do this. Don't start."  
"W- what am I doing? I'm not trying to push you. I'm not trying to force myself on you or anything. I never have, I never will. I just want to understand. Am I doing something wrong?"  
"No."  
"Have I ever hurt you? Did I say something?"  
"No Chloe, really. No."  
"But ... but why then?"  
"Why what? Everything is fine. We just had fun, a lot of fun."  
"You had fun with me. You can touch me, but I can't touch you back."  
"That is not true."  
"Yes, it is. It has been like this since ... always."  
"Chloe ..."  
"You send me messages at night what you want to do with me and where and for how long."  
"Chloe ..."  
"And I can write something like that back to you, but I can't actually do it."  
Chloe, no, that's just not true. "  
"Isn't it? Can I put my hand on your butt?"  
"Y-yes, sure."  
"And can I slide it down the front of your pants and touch your pussy?"  
"No."  
"Okay."  
  
  
"I better go now."  
"Why?"  
"Because you're getting angry right now and I don't want that and I don't want to have this conversation right now or... at all."  
"I'm not angry. I'm completely confused. What are you afraid of? I'm not threatening you."  
"I'm not afraid."  
"I don't get it Rachel. I don't get you right now."  
"There is nothing to get. I told you, I'm not ready yet. Things are not the way I want them to be, I just don't feel right as it is."  
"I need a cigarette."  
  


  
"Chloe, ... it's about security. You know I've been attacked before."  
"Yes ... but, but you _are_ safe with me."  
"Can you stop now? It's not always about you! You are not the center of the fucking universe! And you are not the problem Chloe. I- I just... I don't feel ready yet, I am not... ready. And yes, I know how long I've been saying this but ... but ... maybe we have to wait until I'm eighteen or maybe I'll... never be ready. "

"Rachel, _I am who I_ am and I'm not ashamed anymore. You were the one who said I should be proud of myself and I should stand up for myself and be open and all that shit.  
You said you love me for who I am."  
"Yes, exactly."  
"YES, exactly. I am who I am and I like what I like and ... and if _this right here_ is too gay or whatever for you, then I can't fucking help you."

"That's... not it."  
"What?"  
"Too ... gay."  
"Sure. It's not, than what is it? A game? Are you trying to...?"  
"If you're about to say what I think you're about to say ..."  
"That I feel used?"  
"FUCK YOU CHLOE!"  
"Yeah okay, I'll do that. Fuck off. I hope you enjoyed eating me out. Don't forget to leave the money for the past hours on the night stand before you go."  
  


  
  
  
  


I especially didn't like the way he put his hands on her waist.  
Chloe didn't even seem to notice. I saw her mouth the words "skateboard" and "blunt".

And then I remembered the message I had received this morning.  
He wanted to come here. To the party, bring shit for everyone. The money was in here dancing and wasting his time.  
I took another look at Chloe, who had crossed her legs and draped on Justin's lap and let him massage her shoulders. I could have puked.  
I didn't blame him, but I knew Chloe too well, I knew very well that she wasn't interested in him at all. Whatever was going on here, happened because Chloe was either bored, or she was drunk, or she was trying to prove something. I wasn't interested in any of these options, at least Justin would leave her alone, being a chill dude. She was maybe acting like an a-hole, but she was not putting herself in danger, so I looked away again.

I tapped Nathan, who was just looking into Dana's cleavage, probably deciding to dive in, and asked him if he wanted party supplies.  
He shook his head, but then came with me after I called Frank and asked if he was here already.  
  


Nathan banked; Frank didn't seem to have expected that much turnover from a single kid that evening.  
As a thank you, we stayed with him a little and had a party together.  
Music, dancing, playing with doggo, totally my thing, I took a sip here and a sip there and then he had shots and Frank let us both each have a sniff of his finest snow, so generous.   
Nathan puffed the smoke from his joint on my face and I inhaled. Thank you my friend, thank you, thank you, thank you.  
  
When the two started talking about fitness and health, I told Frank nicely to lift his shirt so Nathan could see his muscles.  
Hard to see from the outside, but this man is pretty well trained. I ran my fingertips over his six pack abs, impressed, but that got me a questioning look from both Nathan and a questioning look from Frank, as well as the sharp voice of Chloe, which angrily cut through the cold air, "What are you doing?"

  
_You are my friend and I love you and I am sorry._  
  
There in the junkyard, we had put our bracelets down. It felt like a fitting gesture.  
Something had ended and something new was beginning.  
  
Chloe's bracelet with the letter R and my bracelet with the letter C were next to each other. They looked sad, they looked used.  
  
She apologized, but made sure, I got the message. I did.  
She had promised me in return, to be careful and to tell me about it.  
And oh man would she tell me about it in the coming days.  
  
I asked myself how in the world I could let it get this far. I wanted to scream, to hold her and tell her no, tell her everything, tell her, what she needed and wanted to know, tell her that I wanted exactly what she wanted and that I would try but. It was too late.  
I had a chance to do things right and I missed it. Over and over and over again I kept messing up.  
  
Just like that night.  
We said goodnight to Frank, walked back, I danced with Chloe, Chloe danced with me, we shared a drunk kiss where we missed each others lips.  
I drank some more with Chloe and then Justin came and drank with us.  
Later that night, Nathan and I went to the bathroom together. We both spent some time on our knees in that bathroom stall, but not for the reason Chloe thought of, when she came in and saw me getting up, cleaning my face.

She didn't ask. Maybe she knew, maybe she didn't but didn't want to know. Or maybe she just didn't care enough anymore.  
But when I woke up in my dorm the next morning, alone and with a splitting headache, and I had zero texts, but three missed calls from Chloe, the first thing I did, was reply by text: _Nothing_ _happened_. 


	6. school year 3 - March

**Rachel  
  
**

I love girls, I always have.  
Even when I was a little girl myself.  
Maybe even as a baby.  
I was probably not breastfed, my mom was a drug addict. She couldn't help herself, it's a disease, today I know that. There is no cure, it is a life-long struggle that only the lucky and extremely strong can win.  
Maybe that's why I love breasts so much.  
For my sixteenth birthday I didn't want a car like all the other girls wanted one, I fucking wanted a boob job. But mom said no, no for now, I got a lot of money instead... that of course I am saving - for my boob job, lol... and ... well, LA later.

I love Chloe's breasts though. They are beautiful and milky white just like the rest of her skin, she has a really interesting skin tone. When I first applied make-up to her, I had to mix something for her, because I didn't have anything that looked like her at all. I already knew then, that she was not just one thing, but many things, but she was nothing that I couldn't find in myself too.

Chloe didn't even know she had breasts. But she does.  
She just wore the wrong size clothes for years until I started taking her shopping and sewing my old clothes and old school costumes that were no longer needed, suiting for her.  
Chloe was starting to feel better and looking sharper and I was starting to find her even sharper. Or more accurately, I found her fucking hot and hella attractive.  
And I told her that, I showed her too.  
  


For me, as for so many, it started with hair, I did my own hair of course, I hardly remember my birth mom but I remember the feel of her hair between my fingers, I do my mom's hair, I do my dad's hair, I dye Chloe's hair, but she likes to cut it herself, I just do the rest, I cut Frank's hair just last week, he asked me to, his mom died and he wanted to pay her his respects. Just for one moment I thought, maybe I should go with him, a kind of road trip, but then I remembered the last time we had spent a little too much time together and the outcome of it and I didn't say anything and withdrew the idea.  
I can still hear Pompidou's growl, when Frank made a grab for me, I didn't mean to make him angry, I didn't mean to get loud or aggressive, it just happened, he knew what he was getting into and that I am emotional and freak out and that I lash out and act out too, like other girls like me, especially teenagers.  
We had talked about LA again and about how I was still in Arcadia and about how Chloe needed a job and I needed a job and somehow we got to my birth mom, who apparantly had contacted him a few times in the past and asked about me and told him about my dad who killed himself and then she left again and he didn't hear from her anymore. That was enough for me already but then he started talking about me, not being a kid anymore and me getting clients my age for him, which I declined, and me, trying to get off of stuff that wasn't good for my body and my mental health, and me, getting paid by him, if I was willing to do more things I don't want to elaborate on.  
  
He then asked about my adoptive parents and I told him, that they were still supportive of my goals, and would financially help me, as long as I stayed out of trouble and away from people that cause trouble, people like him, people like Chloe.  
He told me, to fuck my parents and if I were to do (non) said things, he'd support me and give me the money, I flatout said no, or my exact wording was:  
  
"Between fifty-five and seventy thousand dollars Frankie, you don't have that much."  
"You don't know what I've got, lioness."  
"I do actually."  
  
And that was a big mistake.  
I had to cover up two big bruises and a black eye after that evening.  
Do not be fooled, I am not scared, I got him back. He's not gonna touch me again, I am not scared of him (anymore).  
  


Anyway, I developed an interest in makeup, colors and shapes, and experimented with it, almost as quickly as I did with fashion. God be my witness, I hella loooooove fashion. That, combined with my love for music, I've been playing the piano since I was six years ols and continue to do so, to this day, and I'm really into movie music and modeling, that's what attracted me to Blackwell in the first place and it was my mom, Rose, among others, who was so committed to the school expanding the art program and even bringing it more into focus. The Ambers have always donated a lot of money when it was useful for themselves.

  
Fashion sense and good make-up are great ways to get closer to girls. They confide in you because you make them pretty and when you're done with them, they are even a little prettier than before.  
I listen, I give my opinion only when asked and I don't judge-ever! and that's why they trust me and love me.  
  
I had a friend who occasionally visited me at home when my parents weren't around, there was nothing going on, he just liked it when I put my make-up on him, sometimes he would choose outfits for me, he is very sensitive and good looking, he knows what looks good on me or other girls too, he always liked my dresses and mini skirts, which I can't wear myself yet.  
We would always go to my walk-in closet and choose something for him and something for me.  
I dolled him up, let him wear my heels and took his pictures that I would only let him see and he would return the favor.  
  
Except my parents and doctors of course, Nathan is actually the only person I've ever undressed in front of, at least down to the underwear.  
Sometimes I wasn't sure whether he might wanted more and that I should have kept more distance from him, especially because Chloe distrusts and dislikes him so much, but I can and could always feel when people need me and that's why I wanted to stay friends with him and I'm not someone who just lets you down, or leaves you when you need a shoulder to cry on (or sleep with) even if I'll move away in the near future.  
So no, I'm not afraid of him, never was, he would never hurt me like I would never betray him. We trust each other. This is how it works.

I don't know how much of this Chloe understands.  
I can't see myself by his side at all, I never could. I have nothing against boys, not at all.  
I like them, I like men, a lot. Especially when they are strong, I like their dominance, especially in direct competition, it's like a challenge. Debating with them is like stepping into a lion cage and defeating them, beating them fairly and honestly at something, gives me the absolute kick and drives me further, because what they don't know is that I love to win and I always win, because I am the lion that they are caged with.

But yeah, I love girls, women, God how, I love them.  
They can be hard but also soft, shy but also wild, open and honest but also sneaky and mean, women are challenging and often difficult to see through and that is what makes them so magical and fascinating.  
You love them and you love to love them, if you don't love them, you want to be them and sometimes you hate them and you love that too, you love to hate them and they love you because you make them happy, or they hate you because they think they know something about you or because they want to be like you without knowing who you are and what you want in life and how hard you struggle to push through, but none of this prevents you from loving them, wanting to understand them, wanting them, wanting more of them. Sometimes more than they can give you or more than you dare to ask of them.

Girls are strong. The way they grab you, by your shirt, or your hair, how they demand you love them, or use them, or fuck them.  
I just love it when you can be open with me like that. And just tell me what you want and how you want it. How you want to be touched and loved. But I also like to play before I eat. I like to figure things out.

Guys faces when they come, are just weird. Girls can make weird faces too, but I just laugh at that, it's so fascinating.

The way she closes her eyes, and her hair hanging from the bedside, her slightly opened mouth, the trembling legs, her soft moans or sometimes loud screams, how you hold hands after and jump from  
action to some bullshit to gush about or just stargaze and smoke at a junkyard. How she opens herself up to you over time and lets you in, literally in, more and more after you earn her trust and you think back on how it started, how she told you, that she's a little insecure and never did this with a girl before, and you told her how pretty she is and how you both would just go with the flow and let magic work the rest, how you asked her, how she did, when going solo, and she would take your hand and do what makes her happy.  
And she would always get so quiet, that's when you know, she is about to ...  
And it makes you happy, because you did this to her.

But what am I talking about? I don't know shit.  
Chloe is the only girl I ever slept with.  
Chloe is the only girl I've ever wanted to sleep with, celebrity crushes don't count.  
But she didn't sleep with me. I wouldn't let her.  
I would use her as my drug, get high of her and be really happy with her and then later, I would think back and then jerk off to her, quietly and ashamed and in the safe darkness of my huge closet at home, between my exactly 182 flat ironed flannel shirts, or in my dorm bed after the sun went down, face buried deep into the pillow, because Well's neck may be thick, but the walls in Blackwell girl's dorms are thin.  
She couln't take that anymore after some time and went on and I understand. Because whatever I am, I am a friend first and foremost and we stayed friends, closer than ever, if not physical.

I would see her with assholes, I would see her with people who had disrespected her in the past or were talking smack behind her back or who were dumb, lazy, or simply disgusting- she didn't seem to mind and I didn't say anything, because she didn't ask for my opinion and I didn't judge her.  
But I wanted so see her with someone better.  
I just couldn't continue what I was doing, stepping in the same river twice. I wanted to see her with myself.  
It hurts. But she never asked me, and I didn't feel entitled to it, if what she was doing, was hurtful to me or if I was jealous and because she didn't ask, I didn't have to lie about it.

I once told Chloe, I think it was still May or early June, when we just got involved with each other, and used to being around each other, when we were talking about it, that you can have sex with many people and never get the hang of it. Or you can not ever have had sex at all, but read and learn through other and be very wise about, being a good friend and listener helps a lot here.

So yes, I like boys, I like girls, love them and yes, I love Chloe and yes, I am still a virgin.

  
  
  


**Chloe**

There was a see-through little box in the kitchen that morning, I saw it when I got myself a strong black coffee.  
A sticky note was attached to it. "Try, hella good"  
I opened the box and there were fried pickles in it.  
Hella no, I've had enough of pickles for the rest of my life. I don't want them in my mouth or anywhere else.  
I closed the box again and looked around, since Rachel finally had a front door key, she only came through the window at night, if at all, I preferred to drive to her home when her parents were not there or to the campus when a security service employee was absent due to illness, but my favorite thing to do was chill out with her in our junkyard. Yes, it had become OUR junkyard by now.  
I didn't care what others thought, if they got there at all. The only one who got lost in the middle of nowhere was Frank and we saw him less and less together, mostly I had to look for him when I wanted shit and then I met him alone and only for a few minutes.  
  


She was standing in the living room by the door to the garage, a small mirror she had leaned against the ashtray on the dresser.  
I had to grin because that ugly part was still in the house, just like me, was still in the house. For whatever reason. Eighteen years in this house.  
Rachel was on the phone, I heard a female voice but could not assign it, she put on makeup while eating, looked somehow different than usual but I thought she might try something new again. Or it would be a surprise.  
  


"No ... No, you won't. No way. You're gonna get expelled Kelly-Jean.  
Because that's stupid. And racist ... of course it is.  
I beg you Kelly-Jean, the clothes you sent on the photo look good, you can tell who it should be, that's enough.  
What is that, anyway, what you smeared on your face Looks like shoe polish ... Good God Kelly !!!!  
Why do you even go as Mrs. Grant? Go as Mister Jefferson, like everyone else ... because ... because ... because he's everyone's favorite teacher and it's a dress-like-your-favorite-teacher-thing, also everyone posted their picutres already or dmed me. There are a quadrillion Mister Jeffersons, including mine ... I will still need to fix the hair though ... of course I am the best looking one, well except him, but he isn't competing ... bitch no, that's a rumor ... why? ... no, I am not sleeping with him ... no ... because ... because you asked and I said no ... oh my God, now you're just being dumb , I already get straight A's, why would I suck his dick for better grades? ... yeah, see? ... apology accepted ... that's because you're an idiot, also why would I fuck my gay teacher ?. .. uh yeah, he is ... because he is ... of course he's gay, Kelly-Jean, have you SEEN the man? .. Really? ... Hmm ... so he's not gay? ... Oh, well then I'll totally consider it ... Oh my God NO, that was a joke, you know what, I don't have time for this, I am doing my make up, you are not, and I repeat , you are NOT going to do blackface, wash it off right now or I will bitchslap the hell out of you later ... yes I mean it ... okay, love you, bye, later.  
  


I waited for Rachel to hang up and then "BOO YEAH".  
She let out a little scream and winced pretty hard.  
"You dumbass!" She laughed and threw her arms around me.  
"A little more respect, you're talking to an adult."  
"Tomorrow. You won't be an adult until after midnight and you still haven't told me what you want for your birthday."  
"Nothing, can we just chill out?"  
"Okay, I'll think of something ... I won't drop by right after school, I'm working on a project, so it's going to get late evening. Is that okay?"  
"Wow, I know I said I was an adult and all that but now you are asking my permission to stay out?"  
"No. I'm telling you and I also want to make sure that you don't sit around here crying and twiddling your thumbs and staring at the ceiling or that you won't eat anything all day until I come back here."  
"Who is Mister Jefferson?"  
"What?"  
"Oh nothing, you just talk so much and make yourself more important than you are."  
Rachel laughed and called me dumb twat.  
I've been called something like that before, but it was meant differently than now.

"Can I borrow your phone?"  
"Huh? You have yours in your hand, you just used it, bitch, what are you talking about? You're hella weird."  
"I just want to look up something real quick, before I have to go, I used Nathan's phone last time, but there was so much weird stuff on it."  
The least surprising thing ever. I handed Rachel the phone and she went on the internet and straight to a porn site.  
"Hey, what the hell?"  
"What? The site was recommended to me. And my parents trust me in certain things because I get good grades and never come home pregnant, but they check my cell phone and lap top."  
"Why?"  
"To make sure, I don't look at porn"  
We laughed.  
"You're crazy."  
"Why do you think, I bought this phone for you?"  
"Because you're selfish?"  
"Hell yeah"  
"What even... is that?"  
"Artsy porn"  
"What?"  
"You know... it is porn, but art"  
"Huh?"  
"Well look, here, a guy sucking some girl's toes, but it's black and white and called 'revelations' and here, a dude enjoying a blowy by a beautiful lady and some other dude watching them, while holding... a dead fish I guess. I can't tell, the dark blue filter is strong here. Now i am confused, as to if I wanna fuck him, her or him and the fish."  
We both laughed hysterically.  
"Can you zoom into this one, that's a nice ass"  
"Uh, that's not an ass babe, that's some bald dude's head, there, you can see his ear."  
"Oh shit! Okay, I'm done. This thing is haunted. Ban it"  
"I gotta go anyways. See you later. Love you. Kiss" I kissed her on the cheek.  
"What the hell?"  
"Huh?"  
"I thought you like me."  
"I do."  
"That's how I kiss my grandmother... the one I don't like."  
I wanted to say something silly back, instead I kissed the fuck out of Rachel until her face turned red and she gasped for air.  
"Okay, okay", she laughed and handed me back my phone. "Oh and by the way, last time I borrowed your phone, you didn't delete your browser history. That 'college girls compilation'... very nice, I enjoyed that just as much as you did.  
"WHAT THE FUCK?!"  
"Okay, see ya."  
Rachel left and I stood there with my phone, gulping like a fish. That bitch. Maybe I should shove a fried pickle up her ass.

It's been a hot minute since I've seen Steph.  
After I stopped going to school, it was Rachel who kept in touch with her, I just stopped pretending to belong.  
Steph had graduated by now and lived a life far from Arcadia, but we chatted every now and then, the last time we did, left me very confused.  
  


In retrospect, it was a really stupid idea, but I just didn't know any better at the time.  
I had helped mom in the diner, with my apron tied on and all that shit, and it wasn't even planned that I would serve anyone, who would let me go to other people with a clear conscience? But then at some point I had a pot of coffee in my hand and was re-filling Luke's cup when I heard Sebastian talk unabashedly about Rachel.  
"... like a squirrel. And I was the tree."  
"You're talking shit man." Luke snorted.  
"You didn't fuck Rachel Amber."  
"Hell yeah, I did, _we_ did, last Tuesday, I went to her dorm room and asked her to let me in."  
"And she did?"  
"Oh yeas, she did. And I can tell you, she really is blonde", both of them laughed. And then screamed. I didn't notice, that the hot coffee had run over the edge of the table and onto Luke's lap.

Mom refused to believe, it was an accident this time.  
If I'm honest with myself, then I don't believe myself either. Not really.  
Needless to say, this was the last day I was allowed to help out at the diner. Again I messed up something that was actually a good thing.

So I asked Steph later that day via chat. She didn't laugh at me.  
She didn't roll her eyes and she wasn't annoyed by me.  
She looked more concerned and asked me if I would believe these guys and not Rachel.  
When I confessed to her, that I hadn't asked Rachel at all about this, she looked at me very strangely, but didn't go into it any further.  
"Steph ... is Rachel uhm... is she... gay?"  
She looked uncomfortable. "Shouldn't you really be asking Rachel that?"  
I no longer knew what to think of what.  
"Steph. I'm sorry, but I need to know. Why didn't _you_ want to date Rachel, like why didn't you want to be with her? She was interested in you."  
"Oh... well, uh... actually, I was initially interested in Rachel and then ... I was an idiot. I thought, I knew exactly what I wanted or rather what I didn't want and that's really how it was. I asked her on a date and she said yes, so we went and we got along, so I told her more about me and Rachel opened up to me as well, she told me what she thought she wanted... and I guess, I couldn't deal with it. I could have handled the situation better I think. Instead I backed out of it.  
Today I would probably act differently, but it doesn't matter because that was a long time ago and we both moved on since. Back then, Rachel said, she wasn't ready yet to date seriously or be involved or anything like that really, and I was open and out there already. I got the sense though Chloe, that she is much more open and comfortable with you. Isn't she?"  
"Hm."  
"Like I'm surprised you asked me these things."  
"Well, I thought maybe you knew something or maybe ..."  
"Maybe I'm the reason? Maybe you have to ask me these things because it's my fault?"  
  
I was silent, I just couldn't say anything about that, but Steph was right. I actually wondered why anyone would say NO to _Rachel Amber_ , the most beautiful girl I had ever seen.

"Chloe, how much do you know about Rachel's childhood? Early childhood, I mean. Did she ever tell you how she used to live with her mom?"  
"No, I don't think so. She doesn't remember her birth mother, she mostly talked about her adoptive parents, but now we don't really talk about parents anymore, it bothers us too much."  
"I see."  
  
  
Steph had sent me a letter. Old fashioned.  
The week after this last conversation.  
A brown envelope that David just threw at me, after getting the mail out of the box.  
Three pictures, taken with an old camera.  
The letter was a one liner: Chloe, please give these back to Dr. Rose Amber, I shouldn't have taken these in the first place. Thank you. -S.G.  
  
What the hell? Why would she sent them to me then?  
  
I decided to take a look.  
  
The first picture showed a baby. Tiny little head, dressed up all blue, I turned it around. It said: Dylan, 1 day old - April 23  
The second picture showed a cute little child with blonde curls on a bobby car that still had a bow wrapped around it, looking into the camera with big eyes with long lashes, a little coy and an elderly lady in the background smiling at the kiddo. I turned this one and it said: Dylan and Grandmother Rachel, Birthday - 2 years old - April 22  
The last picture showed a little girl with long hair and glittery make up and an even more glittery fishtale, she was dressed up as a mermaid, I recognized her right away, but turned the picture around anyway. It said: Rachel, Birthday - 5 years old - April 22.  
  
She'd even been so cute, when she was that small, I remembered, how she told me, that she was named after her grandmother, who died, shortly after her third birthday and that she remembered her somehow, more than she remembered her birth mom. But maybe I was just too high in that moment, because I can't recall, she ever mentioned any Dylan. 

I didn't see Rachel's parents, so I couldn't return the pics, but since I had hours to kill, I got them out again and looked at them again today.  
And then something in my head clicked. The more I thought about it, the more sense I made of it.  
It all made sense, but-... and Steph said nothing... and she said no... and... and the pictures... but why didn't she... just tell me... How could I've not known?  
And then I got it, I felt like a complete idiot. And then I felt great.  
For months now, I'd been worried, that something might be wrong with Rachel, that someone, something, might messed her up even more. But no.  
I was just blind. And dumb. But no longer.  
  
  
I looked at all the three pictures again. Yes. Now I could see it. Clearly.  
I thought of the first time I saw Rachel in that gym, and how she stood there right in front of me, hiding behind that locker door and introducing herself to me.  
I shook my head and laughed. - Then I called Steph to get confirmation, to be sure, because by know, it was clear to me, what had happened and that Steph knew and she wanted me to know, but she wanted me to figure it out myself. And I did. - I couldn't get through to Steph, it rang and rang, but she didn't answer it.  
So I called Rachel- but her phone was transfered to mailbox, she was in class still.  
I got up and walked through my room, I walked downstairs and upstairs again... I didn't know what to do and then I had an idea.  
  
The people who moved in after the Summer's left, right around the corner, had a baby party recently.  
So I walked my ass over there and asked for leftovers. Not food this time.  
  
  
  
  
  


**Rachel**   
  


An hour after I said, I'd be there, I finally actually got there.  
The house was dark, i thought Chloe had left, but when I called her, she didn't answer.  
There had also been a call on my mailbox, but she didn't leave a message, so I walked upstairs, calling for her name.  
Her present for her birthday in my hands, I had thought about it long and hard and she would love it- I should say them- so MUCH.  
I opened the door to her room, when I heard her in there and there she was, birthday girl in full glory, standing on her bed, hanging up some banner. No.  
It was something else.  
Blue. Pink. White. Pink. Blue.  
It was a flag.  
  
Chloe saw me and smiled.  
She seemed to be very happy.  
  
"Hey, happy Birthday Chlo - what's that?" I asked her.  
"It's a pride flag. The transgender pride flag to be exact. I made it this afternoon, out of the baby party decoration from the neighbors.   
  
I stared at her. And since I didn't know what to say, I just asked half ironically "And you're trans?"  
  
Chloe laughed and kept smiling at me.  
She jumped off her bed and hugged me.  
  
"No", she said then and her beautiful blue piercing eyes rested on mine, reassuring.  
"No, I'm not, but... but my girlfriend is. And I want her to know, that I am cool with that."  
  


art by the amazing Shep <3  
thank you

**Author's Note:**

> This story marks my 100th fiction on AO3.  
> Thank you guys so much for reading and following my works for years.
> 
> emcee and I elaborated on this idea a while ago, but then never got around to actually write it down.  
> So to end this year, this one is a shorter version for you. <3


End file.
